Burn My Bridges Down
by ihearttvsnark
Summary: Killian Jones is the absolute last person Emma Swan wants to see march into her boss' office with a plan to save the day after Emma's mistake nearly derails an entire political campaign. She has no use for his arrogance or his handsome face, but he's more determined than ever to change her mind about him.


**Author's Note: **If you watch _Veep_, you might recognize some of the scenarios in this story. If you don't watch _Veep_, you should remedy your life choices because it's the absolute best.

Special thanks to Juliete for encouraging me when I came up with this crazy idea and for telling me to watch Veep (which I'm now paying it forward to the rest of you…)

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

_Buzz, buzz, buzz…_

The blue sky and sea stretch out endlessly in front of her as Emma lies on a towel cushioned by the sand and basks in the feel of the warm sun on her skin. She can smell the coconut suntan lotion she'd slathered on earlier and she can practically taste the fruity cocktail she ordered from the cute cabana boy, who should be back any second with the glass and one of those colorful little umbrellas and…

_Buzz, buzz, buzz…_

As the insistent noise gets louder, Emma burrows deeper into her towel and tries to focus on the sound of the waves lapping gently against the shore instead of the obnoxious buzzing sound, but her efforts are futile. The warmth disappears and cotton sheets replace the sand beneath her feet. Emma sighs as the dream evaporates altogether when she recognizes the buzzing. It's her cell phone.

Emma's arm shoots out in the direction of the nightstand and she misjudges the distance, slamming her hand against the side of it. A curse leaves her lips followed by a loud groan and she finally opens her eyes to aid her search. Emma snatches the phone off the wooden surface, narrowly avoiding knocking over the (mostly empty) wine bottle perched beside it. She blinks the sleep from her eyes and looks at the screen, not surprised to see 'City Hall' flashing across it. She pushes the button to answer it and rolls over on her back to stare at the ceiling and imagine the blue sky from her dream in its place. "What's up, Ruby?"

"Where are you?" Ruby's voice is much quieter than usual, practically a whisper, and Emma's internal alarm system instantly starts whirling. She manages to sit up and takes a quick stock of her surroundings just in case that bottle of wine dulled her senses. She recognizes her apartment in Storybrooke – it's so tiny she can see every nook and cranny from her bed.

"I'm at home. What's wrong?" Emma pushes the covers aside and crosses the room to the window, half-expecting to see the sky collapsing. Ruby calling her first thing in the morning is nothing out of the ordinary, but her whispered words and long pauses are unusual. The sky is overcast, which is disappointing after her beach dream, but she sees people and cars moving around so the town is still standing.

"Emma, you're…" There's a shuffling clatter that sounds like Ruby's slapping her palm over the receiver and then Emma hears the other woman let out a noise that resembles a high pitched squeak, making Emma's blood run cold. Nothing ever rattles Ruby and that means…

"Miss Swan."

The familiar, cool voice on the other end of the phone does nothing to calm the anxiety churning in her stomach. Emma knows she is absolutely screwed. "Good morning, Madam Mayor." She manages to choke out the words, hoping her voice doesn't give away the fact that she just got out of bed.

"Miss Swan, are you dead?"

Emma swallows hard. Regina's tone is calm and casual like she's discussing the weather and anyone who didn't know better might think her question was meant to be a joke. But Emma definitely knows better – the mayor does not do casual _ever_ and she certainly doesn't make polite conversation with her staff. Not that asking someone if she's dead counts as polite conversation, but – _just answer the question_.

"No."

"Have you been mortally wounded in some way?" Regina asks before Emma gets a chance to expand on her one-word denial. Not that she has any kind of game plan because her brain still thinks it's on a tropical vacation and can't seem to remember how to form complete sentences. God, how much wine did she drink last night?

Regina clears her throat loudly and Emma recognizes the warning and realizes the mayor is still waiting for an answer to her question. "No."

"Well then I see no reason why you're not standing in my office at this very moment so we can discuss the mess that is my campaign."

Emma winces at that and suddenly the wine/dream haze evaporates from her brain and she's able to think a little too clearly and maybe jumping out of her third story window wouldn't be the worst idea in the world. She glances down and tries to guess whether the fall would kill her or if she'd just end up in the hospital with Regina staring down at her and demanding to know why she missed work for her injuries. _Get a grip, Emma_.

"Madam Mayor, I…" The line goes dead and Emma lets out a loud curse, turning away from the window and practically sprinting into the bathroom. Dropping the phone on the counter, she quickly picks up her toothbrush, applies the toothpaste and then reaches for her hairbrush with her free hand, finally lifting her gaze to the mirror to take in her reflection and see if she looks as bad as she imagines.

Her skin seems extra pale and the dark circles under her red-rimmed eyes are definitely not pretty. Emma drags the brush through her knotted hair and attempts to brush her teeth at the same time, somewhat impressed with her coordination – or she would be impressed if Regina's voice wasn't still running through her head.

"…_so we can discuss the mess that is my campaign."_

She's totally screwed.

Ten minutes later, Emma's dressed in her most professional black suit and dark green blouse, her hair has been tamed, the heavily applied concealer is doing its job along with the eye drops she dug out of the cabinet and she's stepping into the first pair of matching pumps she finds on the floor of her closet. She dashes back to the bathroom to grab her phone, not bothering to check the messages she assumes are waiting, and then rushes for the door, pausing only to scoop up her keys and bag from the couch.

She slides behind the wheel of her bug and swings the car out of its parking spot, pushing down hard on the gas as she drives toward Main Street. Emma allows herself one deep breath now that she's on her way. All she needs to do is figure out how to fix the mess the campaign was in because as much as it pained her to admit it, she knew the blame started and stopped with her and not just because she was the mayor's chief of staff.

Her mind drifts back to the night before and the fundraiser dinner for the congressional candidates at the state capital that should have been a slam dunk for Regina's campaign. The whole thing was just a fancy dog and pony show, a way for the candidates to mix and mingle with the wealthy business owners and lobbyists and make deals and promises for what they'd do once they were in office. The state media showed up and staffers leaked donation amounts to them and by the end of the night, there was a clear frontrunner.

It should have been Regina and it would have been if Jefferson Hatter hadn't changed his mind at the last minute and donated the maximum contribution permitted by law to her opponent Robert Gold's campaign. Everyone on Regina's staff had been stunned because the eccentric man had promised Emma earlier that he had every intention of supporting Regina and she'd let their staffers spread that information to the press – something that came back to bite them hard when Jefferson changed his mind.

The media instantly turned on them for counting their dollars before the check was cashed and by the end of the night, Gold had moved past Regina in the polls. The election was only six weeks away and this kind of setback had the potential to permanently cripple the campaign – something that just cannot be allowed to happen. She just needs to find a way out of this mess. As she drives past Granny's diner, Emma's more than tempted to stop in for a quick cup of coffee so she won't be forced to drink the sludge at City Hall, but she's pretty sure Regina would kill her with her bare hands if she walked in with a to-go cup.

Then again, Regina's probably going to kill her anyway. Emma takes one last longing glance at the diner in her rearview mirror and then turns her focus back to the road ahead and the quickly-approaching City Hall. The reason she'd gone to bed without bothering to set her alarm after downing most of a bottle of wine was because she'd expected the mayor to stay the night in Augusta, but she should have known better.

Regina did not accept failure or mistakes so she'd probably returned to Storybrooke before the clock struck midnight and then headed for her office at first light. Emma should have anticipated that – she should have been there to greet her with a new campaign strategy and a list of potential donors. She definitely should not have spent the night wallowing in her wine and mistakes.

But it's too late to do anything about it now and she absolutely needs to pull herself together before she sets foot in the mayor's office. Emma parks the car, tosses her keys into her bag and hauls the bag onto her shoulder as she strides across the parking lot and slips through the staff entrance into the building. The security guard nods in her direction and she gives him a tight smile, figuring he's probably the one and only person who will have a somewhat friendly greeting for her this morning. As she makes her way up the stairs to the second floor, Emma can already hear familiar, loud voices and she knows the chaos of the day is only beginning.

She steps into the lobby of the mayoral suite and sees Ruby sitting behind the administration desk, her eyes focused on the screen in front of her, fingers flying over the keyboard. Ruby's the reason Emma landed in Storybrooke in the first place. The two were assigned roommates freshmen year at NYC and roommates by choice for the three years that followed. After graduation, Regina returned to her hometown to be near her grandmother and was the first person Emma had ever met who promised to keep in touch and then actually did.

Ruby glances up from her computer, her pretty face set in a grimace when she catches Emma's eyes and then points to the headset connected to her phone. "Yes, I understand, but we have no comment at this time." She presses a button on the phone. "Thank you for calling Mayor Mills' office, how may I help you? No, there's no comment." She presses the button again and Emma sends her a sympathetic look as Ruby repeats the greeting once more for the next caller.

Since it doesn't seem like Ruby's going to have a free moment any time soon, Emma figures she might as well face the music. She starts to walk toward Regina's closed office door, but stops short when she hears Leroy's booming voice coming from the other side of the suite.

"Are you out of your mind?"

Emma changes direction and crosses the suite to the conference room where the mayor's two senior strategists stood on opposite ends of the large mahogany table, glaring at one another. Victor slams his hand against the table, making Emma jump. "Numbers don't lie and that's something you'd know if you ever bothered to read my research."

Leroy rolls his eyes heavenward and his ever present scowl seems to deepen even more. "You can take your precious numbers and choke on them because voters do not care about equations and charts. They care about actions."

"Guys, please," David says from his seat at the head of the table. The press secretary motions to the chairs, but neither man pays any attention to him. "I need to put together a statement for the press so Ruby can say something other than 'no comment' and you two trying to tear each other's heads off isn't going to solve anything."

"Save your Prince Charming act for the media," Victor mumbles and it's David's turn to roll his eyes. Emma considers stepping in, but she knows she has nothing to offer any of them and she figures they probably don't want her help since they're in this mess because of her so she turns away from the conference room and is relieved to see Ruby waving her over.

As Emma crosses the suite toward her, the admin puts her finger to her signature red lips and tilts her head in the direction of the mayor's door. Emma nods and doesn't say anything until she's standing close enough to lean over Ruby's desk. "How bad?" she whispers.

"Bad," Ruby whispers back. She glances at the door again like she expects Regina to pop up at any moment. "Gold landed the front page of most of the major state papers and there's a blurb in the Washington Post too. Victor's running numbers and Leroy's freaking out about the money."

The phone rings before Emma can say anything and Ruby shoots her a sympathetic glance and pushes the button to answer it. Emma takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly as she turns toward Regina's door, suddenly feeling like she's about to walk the final mile to her execution. But she knows the longer she stalls, the more time Regina has to build up steam so she reaches for the doorknob and pushes the door open.

Regina sits behind her desk and her head snaps up, her dark eyes locking on Emma's as she moves into the office and lets the door close at her back. Emma opens her mouth, but Regina raises an eyebrow and she changes her mind. She's worked for Regina for almost two years now, ever since Ruby gave her the heads up that the mayor was looking for a chief of staff who could discreetly help her plan a congressional campaign. The opportunity to get in on the ground floor of a campaign had been exactly what Emma had been waiting for since she'd graduated college and floated between demeaning political aide jobs that went nowhere.

So she'd packed up her tiny apartment in Boston, drove to Storybrooke and crashed at Ruby's grandmother's B&B until she'd secured the job and the current tiny apartment she called home. Working for Regina was challenging on the best day and downright terrible on the worst, but Emma thrived on pressure and she loved the satisfaction of a job well done and knowing they were so close to taking the next step and winning the election. Or at least they had been until last night's disaster.

"It's nice of you to finally join us, Miss Swan." Regina taps her fingernails against the desk and Emma's surprised it doesn't catch fire from her temper. The mayor was a complicated woman, not always the nicest person in the world to work for, given her impatience and severe lack of concern for other people's feelings or time, but she had a good heart and she was one of the few politicians Emma knew who actually got things done and came through when people needed her. Storybrooke ran like a well-oiled machine and Emma had no doubt Regina would be an asset to the state in a higher office, even if she was currently looking at her like she wished her dead.

"I'm sorry," Emma says as she moves closer to the desk. She's worked for Regina long enough to know the woman preferred people to fall on their swords so she figures she might as well get it over with so they could get past this. "I don't know why Jefferson changed his mind, but I never should have let the staff leak it to the press ahead of time." She wants to kick herself for the rookie mistake, but she'd been excited and Jefferson had seemed so genuine. She had every intention of finding out why he'd switched sides without giving her the courtesy of an explanation.

Regina continues to scowl at her and Emma braces herself for another round of lectures, but the sound of a soft throat clearing draws her attention to the couch. Mary Margaret, Regina's stepsister and personal assistant, offers Emma a familiar soft smile. "We all make mistakes when we're under pressure and Regina knows that." She shoots a pointed look in the mayor's direction. Regina rolls her eyes, but doesn't comment so Mary Margaret turns back to Emma. "We just have to put it behind us and come up with a new strategy."

Emma sends her a grateful smile. Mary Margaret has always been the mother hen of the staff and the only one aside from Regina's husband who could rein in her temper and hostility when she got in one of her moods. "Mary Margaret's right. Jefferson's contribution would have been an asset, but it's not like all hope is lost. There are other donors out there."

"Are you sure about that?" Regina asks. She leans back in her chair and crosses her arms over her chest. "We're six weeks away from the election and not only did we lose the money, we lost his support. A lot of people in this state like that twisted hat obsessed freak."

Mary Margaret sighs and Emma bites the inside of her cheek because she's already in the doghouse and no good can come from pointing out that maybe if Regina would stop thinking of people as annoyances, she'd have an easier time securing donors. "Jefferson does have a lot of influence, but there are other untapped resources out there." She can't think of any off the top of her head, but she would eventually.

"Money isn't going to be enough to buy this election," Mary Margaret points out. She holds up her and when Regina scoffs. "No, I'm not naïve. I know money is important, but so is action. People want a leader who will fight for them and make their lives easier and plenty of people in Storybrooke can attest that you do that, Regina. All Gold's ever done is raise everyone's rent."

Regina sighs and pushes her chair back from her desk so she can get up to pace the room, another sign that her impatience has reached new heights. "Unicorns and rainbows are all well and good, but Storybrooke is one town and that's not going to help me win votes in Augusta or Portland where Gold has been spending all of this time making deals." She sends a pointed glare in Emma's direction and it hits her like a physical slap to the face.

It had been her call not to have Regina spend more time than necessary on the campaign trail. It had been a risky choice and one the staff had been split on, but Emma had convinced Regina it was better to let the staff get her message out while she stayed behind and actually did her job running the town. She believed it looked good for the mayor to commit to working hard rather than drive across the state _promising_ to work hard like Gold was doing. She also knew meeting people and being friendly was never going to be Regina's strong point, but now isn't the time to mention that.

"We can fix this, Regina," Emma tells her. She knows she's repeating herself, but it's all she can do for the moment until she can come up with a solid action plan. "We need a new strategy."

"That's where I come in, love."

Every part of her freezes at the sound of the familiar voice and it's like no time at all has passed since her senior year at NYU. She doesn't have to turn around to see the smirk on his face, she knows it's there (it's always there), and she can hear the arrogance in his voice – his stupid, lilting accent that he uses as a weapon to charm unsuspecting people into submission along with his dimpled smile and his ridiculously blue eyes and – _no_. Hell no. He cannot be here to swoop in and save the day after all the hard work she's put into this. No, no, no.

Mary Margaret and Regina are already looking past her to him and Emma feels the familiar annoyance humming in her blood. She turns, her eyes narrowing, and just as expected, there's Killian Jones leaning in the doorway, smug grin on his handsome face and those stupid blue eyes are trained on her like her reaction is the only one he's interested in – smug bastard. Her hands clench into fists at her side and Emma imagines planting one of them right in his face.

He deserves so much worse after what he did to her.

"Who are you?" Regina asks.

He finally tears his eyes away from Emma and aims his grin in the mayor's direction. "Killian Jones." Without an invitation, he crosses the office and extends his hand to Regina. "I'm here to get your campaign back on track and help you beat Gold."

Emma rolls her eyes and she sees Mary Margaret shoot her a questioning look, but now is not the time to explain because she wants to watch Regina tear Jones apart and send him on his way. The mayor looks at his outstretched hand with distaste and rests her hands on her hips and Emma doesn't bother holding back a grin. She only wishes she had popcorn and wine to truly enjoy this moment.

But Killian doesn't appear to be fazed by the dismissive look and simply tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans (who wears jeans while trying to land a job?) and continues to grin at Regina. "Your campaign tactics are too soft and you're never going to beat someone like Gold unless you're willing to go for the jugular."

"Why am I not surprised your advice is to fight dirty?" Emma scoffs. She all too familiar with the reputation he's built since college. They call him the political pirate because he's known for getting the job done by any means necessary, morals and consequences be damned as long as the end result justifies whatever underhanded means he employs.

He turns in her direction, raises an eyebrow and somehow manages to look even smugger. "Darling, if you're not willing to get your hands dirty, you're in the wrong profession." His tongue darts out to touch the corner of his lip and Emma clenches her hands into fists to stop from beating him over the head with the closest heavy object.

She doesn't have a chance to respond before he turns to Regina once more. "Do you know how Gold managed to steal Jefferson out from under you? Blackmail," he says, not giving Regina a chance to speak. "He had dirt on him and used it to secure his cooperation."

Regina's eyes narrow, but Emma can see her interest is piqued and as much as she hates to admit it, hers is too. "And how would you know that?" Regina asks.

"I found it for him," Killian replies. Mary Margaret gasps and Emma just rolls her eyes again because of course he did. It's been years since they've seen each other and they're picking up exactly where they left off – with Killian completely and totally screwing her over. The urge to beat him over the head intensifies, but Regina speaks first.

"If you're working for Gold, why are you standing in my office sharing his secrets?"

Killian's expression hardens. "He double crossed me and I'm here to return the favor and offer my services to you. No revenge would be sweeter than helping you take down that man."

Of course he's there to use them for revenge just because he finally met someone willing to sink even lower than him and got a taste of his own medicine. Emma's heard enough. "Thanks, but no thanks, Jones. We're not going to stoop to Gold's level. I'm sure you can find your way out."

"Not so fast," Regina says. She motions for Killian to take a seat and moves back around her desk to sit as well. "Mary Margaret, I need coffee. Miss Swan, I'm sure you have plenty of tasks to keep you busy. Close the door behind you."

Emma is offended, but she's smart enough to know she's not in a position to argue thanks to her mess, part of which she can now blame on Jones. Silently fuming, she follows Mary Margaret out of the office, closing the door behind her harder than necessary. Ruby gives her an eager look and Emma can see she's dying to rehash their college days, but that's not happening now or maybe ever, if she has her way.

She just shakes her head and follows Mary Margaret down the hall to the staff kitchen. Since everyone is busy in the suite, they have the room to themselves and Emma takes a moment to try and shake some of the tension out of her body. She'd kill for a massage and a decent cup of coffee, but she knows she'll settle for bad coffee and take the opportunity to pick her friend's brain. "She's not going to hire him, is she?"

"I don't know." Mary Margaret makes a face when she sees the coffeepot and instantly dumps the contents in the sink. She rinses it out and moves to the cabinet to get the grounds to start a fresh one. "She might just want to see if she can get more information about Gold. How do you know Mr. Jones?"

"College," Emma replies. She takes a seat, still fighting the urge to put her fist through something. "We both majored in political science and ended up working with a lot of the same professors on projects. He's always been underhanded and sneaky and…"

"Attractive?" Mary Margaret glances back at her and smiles. "I know it's none of my business, but the way you two were looking at each other…"

"No," Emma replies forcefully. She's made a lot of stupid mistakes in her life and she's forever grateful that falling for Killian Jones' charm was not one of them, unlike every other female who crossed his path. "I had no interest in being another notch on his bedpost."

Mary Margaret's smile fades, her brow furrowing in confusion and Emma can already tell what her friend is going to say. "But I thought…" Her cheeks flush and she glances back at the coffeepot, clearly assuming she's overstepped.

Emma fights the urge to roll her eyes because she knows her friend doesn't understand what it's like not to be in a relationship. She fell in love with David at first sight and never looked at another man again. One time over drinks in a hotel bar after a campaign event, Emma explained why she will always prefer one night stands and she's pretty sure Mary Margaret was permanently scandalized. "Yeah, I have my own notches, but never with him."

"So why do you have so much animosity toward him?"

"It's a long story." One that Emma did not particularly want to tell and thankfully, Mary Margaret was not the type to push. She simply nodded and turned back to the coffee while Emma stared out the small window that overlooked the parking lot and wondered what Regina and Killian were discussing. The mayor might have given him a few moments of her time, but she was too smart to fall for his act. If anything, Mary Margaret was right. She probably wanted to get some additional information about Gold before sending him on his way.

Satisfied with that logic, Emma rises from the table and pulls two extra mugs out of the cabinet, figuring Ruby could probably use a fresh cup of coffee too. Once the coffee was ready and poured, they walk back to the mayor's suite. Emma sets one of the mugs down on Ruby's desk just as Killian breezes out the door, pausing to wink at Ruby before he turns his smirk in Emma's direction.

"Swan, I look forward to catching up."

No, no, no. Emma ignores him, sets her coffee on the desk and rushes into Regina's office, slamming the door again. Regina glances up and it's Emma turn to glare at her. "Are you insane?"

Regina raises an eyebrow and then a slow, satisfied smile crosses her lips. "At least you've finally stopped cowering. It's beneath you, Miss Swan."

Emma knows there's a backhanded compliment in her statement, but she's far too keyed up to appreciate it at the moment. "How can you hire Killian Jones?" she demands, striding forward until she's standing in front of Regina's desk. "You can't trust him. He was just working for Gold and he's a liar and a cheat and he's arrogant and he will throw anyone under the bus to get exactly what he wants. That's not the kind of message we want to send."

The mayor just stares at her and Emma has half a mind to reach across the desk and physically shake some sense into her because she doesn't understand how someone as smart as Regina could be taken in by Killian so fast. It can't be the charm because Emma knows Regina's just as ridiculously in love with her husband as Mary Margaret is with David and it's not like Killian's education and resume is all that different from Emma's. "Why him of all people?" she asks.

Regina leans forward and folds her hands in front of her. "I want to win, Miss Swan. I know that's what you want as well, but last night was a setback and a big one, the kind of setback that could potentially end a campaign. Jones might have an unsavory reputation, but he does know how to get things done and he has insights into Gold's campaign. Set aside your personal bias for a moment and think about that."

"It's more than personal bias," Emma replies, but the look Regina gives her makes it clear that she's not buying that excuse. Emma sighs. "Obviously you've made up your mind, but I still think this is a huge mistake. For all we know, he's secretly working for Gold and he's just here to act as a spy."

The mayor rolls her eyes. "Give me some credit, Miss Swan. I'm not new to politics and I know better than to just take someone at their word. Besides, Jones is not the only person Gold has screwed over to get ahead. Everyone on this staff knows that firsthand, including me," she adds darkly.

Emma bristles at that because even though she hates to concede, Regina's right. They've all suffered at one time or another after being on the wrong end of one of Gold's deals. When she'd originally decided to run for congress, Gold had given Regina his full support and then a week later, he'd announced his own candidacy. "But that still doesn't make Jones trustworthy," she adds.

"And wasting time on this conversation doesn't fix last night's disaster," Regina says pointedly, the sharp tone of her voice making it clear that the topic is officially closed. "I've made my decision and you can live with it and go do your job or turn right back around and go home. The choice is yours."

Regina turns her attention to her computer and Emma knows that's the end of it and while there is a small, petty part of her that would like nothing more than to quit and get the hell out of Storybrooke, she knows that she needs to look at the big picture. She's worked hard at this job and she has every intention of working even harder when she's chief of staff to _Congresswoman_ Regina Mills and there's no way in hell she's letting Killian Jones steal another opportunity from her.

"I'll be in my office if you need me." Emma lets herself out of the mayor's office and is relieved to see Ruby's stepped away from her desk for a moment because she's not ready to talk about Killian's reappearance with her friend. She leaves the mayor's suite and heads down the long hallway toward her own office. Maybe burying her head in work for the next few hours will take her mind off things.

She pulls out her phone to finally check her messages and doesn't look up when someone falls in step beside her, assuming it's one of the staff members wanting to discuss strategy. But when they reach her office and the person still hasn't said anything, Emma finally looks to her left and lets out an audible groan. "What the hell do you want?"

Peter Gold gives her an offended look. "Is that any way to talk to a member of the press, Emma? What would David say if he heard you using that tone with me?" he asks with a disapproving shake of his head.

"He'd say what he always says. Get the hell out of our offices, Peter Pan. Come back when you have actual press credentials and not just a website that your uncle created for you so you could feel important," Emma replies. His eyes narrow and she smiles, feeling lighter than she has all morning at the sour look on his face.

Gold's nephew is a junior at the local university and he'd spent one semester interning in the mayor's office and managed to alienate every single person on staff with his terrible attitude and his belief that he was superior to everyone, something he'd no doubt inherited from his uncle. Recently, he'd started a blog to cover politics and the website was more or less just a front for Gold to take shots at his enemies and still keep his hands somewhat clean.

"The Neverland Times gains more traffic every hour in this state and you should show it and me the respect we deserve if you want to…"

Emma doesn't hear the rest of his demand because she's already behind her closed office door. She sends a quick text to the security guard to make sure Peter is removed from the building and then moves toward her desk, letting out a startled yelp when she realizes she's not alone in the office. "What the hell? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" She barely manages not to drop her phone as her other hand goes to her chest where her heart is attempting to free itself.

"Apologies, love, but I assumed you'd see me sitting here since the room isn't all that big," Killian replies from his spot in one of her visitors' chairs. That smirk is firmly in place and she forgets about the fright he gave her and turns her focus back to being annoyed by his existence.

"I was distracted by more important things," Emma replies, grateful Peter isn't around to hear her lying about him being of any importance. She moves around her desk, but remains standing as she glares at him. "Regina might have hired you, but that doesn't mean you get to run around the offices like you own the place. What do you want?" she demands through gritted teeth. She's more than had her fill of smug British bastards for one morning.

If he's fazed by her tone or utter disgust for him, he doesn't show it. Killian simply stands as well, cocky grin still in place. "Swan, I don't know where all of this hostility toward me is coming from, but perhaps we can hash it out over drinks later? Or we could have them now, if you'd prefer a morning taste." He draws out the last word, letting his tongue dart out to touch the corner of his lip and Emma clenches her fists.

"Seriously, Jones?" she asks, not sure if she should kill him because he's so arrogant or feel sorry for him because he's so dense that he has no idea why she might have held a grudge all these years. "Did you really think you could show up here and I'd be happy to see you?"

"Aye," Killian replies and Emma decides it's clearly the first option and his arrogance outweighs his common sense. She silently curses Regina for putting her in this position.

"I want you to hear what I'm saying and let it sink into that thick skull of yours, okay?" Emma raises an eyebrow and waits for him to object, but he just looks amused and continues to grin at her. "I'm never going to have a drink with your or fall for your charm. It didn't work on me in college and it's not going to work now. We're here to do a job and that's that."

Killian looks at her for a moment and then he laughs, low and deep and Emma barely resists the urge to scream. "That's very fierce and commanding, Swan. I always did enjoy a woman in a position of authority."

The sound of her phone vibrating against the desk is the only thing that keeps her from leaning across it to put her fist in his face. Instead, she shoots him another death glare and grabs the phone, pressing the answer button and bringing it to her ear. "Emma Swan." She barks out her name and instantly regrets it when the caller identifies himself as one of their campaign donors. "Dr. Hopper, it's nice to hear from you," she says in a much calmer voice.

Killian chuckles softly and points to the door. "I'll be getting settled across the hall if you need me. Try not to growl at any other campaign donors when we're already short on money, darling," he adds as he walks toward the door.

Emma's eyes turn to slits and she grabs the vase of flowers from the windowsill (Mary Margaret's idea to brighten up the offices, not hers) and hurls it at his head. He somehow senses it and steps to the left, letting the vase shatter against the wall before he sends her one last smirk over his shoulder and then disappears, closing the door quietly behind him. Emma screams internally and forces herself to pay attention to what Archie's saying.

She'll plan ways to murder Killian Jones when she has a free moment.


End file.
